Barbara J. Hamby

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Poetry and Politics

Last night I met with several other poets at a lovely home in Sherwood to share homemade soup and bread and cheese and fruit, along with a bottle of homemade plum wine. For medical reasons, I’m no longer allowed to indulge in alcohol, but the wine made a big hit with others, a pretty hard hit, according to one who drank it too fast. After our feast, we sat around a crackling fire and read our poems aloud, in turn. During the meal, and after the readings, we talked about the state of our world.

We pretty much agreed that the state of our nation is shameful. I know that I am glad to be an American, but no longer proud of our government. I’m proud of the strength of our people, and share the hope that we can recover our former status as a world leader. We talked about many grass roots efforts that are springing up to bring back control to those who work so hard to make the world a better place. Unfortunately many politicians don’t fall into that category.

Our host declared he’s hoping for a miracle. I gathered from the conversation that he, and several other poets there, hang their hopes on Obama’s promises. On the other hand, I am inclined toward a woman. In my life experience, women are more often miracle makers. Every day, millions of women in this country stretch their energy over stressful careers, demands of a spouse and children, and running a household. Many single mothers have to “do it all.” I have walked in those shoes.

Each voter has to decide individually and, in this election as never before, we are being bombarded with information—sometimes too much, I think. We need to sift out what is important to us and try to vote for the right reasons.

Now, off the soapbox and back to the poetry, our gracious hosts have decided to continue these monthly gatherings. I plan to be there whenever I can. To my delight, I discovered that night driving, even in rain, is much easier after the cataract surgery. I saw a gray cat before it ran in front of my car on a dark country road and managed to avoid hitting the kitty. The drive home was a good finish to a delightful evening.

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